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Hentai games are big business over in Japan. They're such big business that companies will actually shoehorn sex scenes into otherwise innocent PC games just to meet market demand. Utawarerumono -- a competent combination of visual novel and turn-based strategy -- is one of those games, and a popular one at that, although the PS2 version has been tamed.

It's too late to write a game about how wonderful the Internet might be. Few actually tried beforehand, but at least Interplay's Neuromancer did it right. Set in decaying, crime-ridden Chiba City in Japan, Neuromancer is part RPG, part adventure game and full of odd characters equally likely to give you information or insult you. It's got public terminals where you can read BBS email or even enter Cyberspace, a weird gridlike world where you can crack databases with the right softw...

I bet you think it's all fun and games, captaining a space ship. I bet to you it's bucketloads of adventure and alien girls and space monsters and cyborgs, and all the other stuff Star Trek says? Well let me tell you something, flatlander; Star Trek has it wrong.

It's just another day in modern Tokyo. A cute schoolgirl (or schoolboy, if you're so inclined to choose) is walking down a metallic pathway, when suddenly, robotic ape/lizard hybrids leap from nowhere, only to be slashed in twain with your sword that leaves a shower of sparkles in its wake. Reinforcements come in from all sides as you continue to press your way to the right. A large humanoid robot attacks, its lanky limbs forcing you to keep your distance. You hold your attack button, and after ...

What shattered my illusion was that for a game set in the world of dreams, Cocoron comes off as simply another eight-bit platformer. A competent one that does possess a certain amount of inventiveness and charm, but nothing I'd deem as particularly special or noteworthy. It's fun to play, but easy to forget, as there's very little of the tripped-out unreality I associate with mystical worlds only existing in one's imagination. Inception, this isn't.

The simplicity cannot be understated or overstated. But for the first time, an underdog hero seemed to emerge, someone with realistic means of disposing of obstacles and limited skill in a world then dominated by spaceships and yellow gobbling monsters. He’s a modest man; there’s nothing super about Mario at this point. It is with wit and cunning that he perseveres, predicting when a barrel is coming, alert of their dangerous potential shortcuts down ladders, and in tune with all his hazardous surroundings. Enter randomness – events cannot be predicted in Donkey Kong, and the hero must find his way out of dire situations with deftness like an action movie’s lead. The great ape tries to put the hero’s back against the wall, hurling beams that clatter down randomly and barrels with increased ferocity each round. Jumpman’s mettle is put on trial during every ramp round, as he struggles uphill against a gargantuan competitor trying to keep him down.

Yes, it feels a little bit stupid at first. However, the transformations are important because each character can utilize special abilities. These work almost like cheats. For example, one character can earn an additional two stars on any song if you play well enough that he otherwise would earn five. Another has the ability to ignore an error or two in short succession, meaning that if you miss a note it's not necessarily the end of a crazy streak you had going. There are eight characters in all, each with special abilities that have the potential to change how you play and to allow your fake artistry to reach new heights.

People made good money off long multiple choice tests disguised as educational software back in the Apple II's heyday. It took a while for kids to get over playing a computer to realize it was just a quiz. Some games went beyond. Oregon Trail taught the dangers of fording a twelve-foot river and the wisdom of resting if you have dysentery. Number Munchers helped speed up your mental arithmetic. I found Type Attack, a Space Invaders clone that taught the QWERTY keyboard, more useful than e...

If there is one thing the classic FPS title Doom did not need it was a bunch of numbers, but evidently someone in Japan thought differently. Import-only PlayStation launch title Crime Crackers is essentially a ‘Doom RPG’ full of first-person shooting, mazes, keys, and a bunch of stats. It sounds like a mildly interesting combination except it’s been ruined by poor level design and gimped shooting mechanics.

One day, the King of the Universe is out in the Nebulae playing with his son, the Prince. The Prince can jump pretty far, but he's no match for the King just yet. In fact, the King can jump as high as he likes, and he does, just to show the Prince how it's done - but disaster strikes! He's hit in the head by a meteor.

Russell's quote rings true in this instance too; if Pong never caught on, we’d simply be crediting a different title for introducing the product to the market, perhaps even a better title. Thank Asteroids, or Joust, or Defender. The entrepreneurs that tried to bring video games to the mainstream – your Bushnells and Baers – were determined men. Many of them dropped out of schools and mortgaged their futures on the hunch that this would become a viable medium of entertainment. And they suffered setbacks before, having seen their ideas rejected by countless manufacturers. They persevered through those. What makes anyone think Nolan Bushnell would have suddenly abandoned his dream if just his second attempt at an arcade game failed? What makes anyone think video games wouldn't exist without Pong?

In an age long lost, the standard appearance of a main character vastly differed then that of today. Today, we have protaganists that look more like they belong in a gothic fashion magazine then as a serious combatant, complete with girly long-haired and sunbed tans. But in 1994 the exact opposite applied: manly men with bronze-skinned bodies and muscles that would make Arnold in his prime weep, wearing naught more than a turban and loose-fitting silk trousers.

Poor pacing, boring battles and mountains of pretentious prattling more suited to a art house coffee shop after hours. The game tries -- it really tries -- to take the gamer on an intellectual ride, to sell to them its world, its setting and its misery. But in doing so, often forgets that it’s meant to be a functioning game underneath all this.

In R-Shark the background scrolls to the right but the bullet remains on screen, keeping the same trajectory. The results are utterly bizarre. Weaving through waves and flurries of enemy fire, enemy ammunitions fly yet “flutter” like pitched knuckleballs, the swaying background tricking the eye into thinking their trajectory is shifting with your craft. But it’s not. Your craft shifts the background, but isn’t shifting with the background. And the bullets aren’t shifting at all.

Should you have the patience to overcome these initial hardships, you'll find that Final Fantasy XIV has the potential to be a very enjoyable game, despite how detractors simply say it's a Final Fantasy XI clone with shinier graphics. There are, of course, some similarities. The locales are different, but because they used the same races as FFXI and the same design team created both games, they have a very similar aesthetic. Seeing videos of the FFXIV make gameplay look like FFXI, but prettier. It's not until you learn about the intricasies of the mechanics fueling both games that it becomes easy to understand how vastly different they are.

Spawned from the calamity came The Punisher, forever replacing our blue-collar "everyday hero" with a hell-bent, vengeance-seeking vigilante. This antihero is not out fighting for the common good; he's fighting against the vile criminals that took away his family, utilizing any means necessary to do so. Should a few distressed damsels be rescued and precious ecosystems be saved in the process, then that's okay too. It's just not the primary concern here; igniting gun-toting gangsters with a flamethrower before hurling a steel harpoon through their abdomens is of greater importance to this man. Even the costume reeks of bad attitude: a dark blue spandex suit, skull design across the chest clinging to his ripped brawny frame, massive calf muscles bulging out of white leather boots. This man isn't a superhero at all -- he's just one hundred percent badass.